We got the chickens as new babies on Christmas Day. And we've waited, and waited, and waited. Andersen was sure his was a rooster, so he named it Captain. But so far, there are no signs of any of the 4 chickens being a rooster. And yesterday, Abby finally found the first egg. She was sure it came from Captain, which made Andersen a little confused and sad. . . Because he was so set on his chicken being a rooster. Last night he decided that if the egg really did come from Captain, then he better rename him. Because "Captain" is definitely a boys name, and Andersen's girl chicken shouldn't have a boys name anymore.
I'm just glad they haven't died since Christmas. We'll see how they do in the heat of the summer. Even with all the poop I keep finding on my patio, I have found myself getting quite fond of these little chickens. Weird. John. . . well, not so much. But he tolerates them fine. And now that we're starting to get eggs, it might be worth it.
